A Different Kind of Deadly (8 page)

That little wound will stop
bleeding.

The skin will repair itself.

And in a less than a week, it will be as
though I'd never been hurt.

Truly, our bodies are machines run on
miracles.

The thought was a welcome distraction, pulling
me from the grim revelations Leo had offered hours
before.

"Will."

I said the name for the dozenth time, tasting
it, turning it over, disturbed by my lack of recognition, and
annoyed at my welling disgust.

There was something about the name; that much
was certain. I didn't remember a single thing about the person who
was once attached to it, but the nausea it induced was something I
couldn't deny.

"I'm sorry," I said to my bloody finger. "I'm
sorry that I don't remember you, Will."

"
Marvin!
"

I jumped so hard out of my skin that I almost
had an out of body experience.

"
Get out of bed, and come downstairs
."

It was Diana's voice... or at least a mangled
version of it, screeching from the shrunken head in the corner of
the room. Its jaw flapped open wildly, bouncing on what I initially
took for a string... but was actually sinew.

I swore under my breath, not caring that I was
half naked in my eagerness to get out of the damn room. It was a
wonder what depression could do to a man, to not make him care
about his surroundings.

It was my first time in the hall, a badly
sloping thing that prompted me to lean sharply to my right to keep
from falling over. The quaint decor, (and by that I mean cobwebs
and all kinds of nasty), continued from my rooms down the
stairs.

A startled scream lodged in my
throat as my foot fell through the final step, only to kick at
something with the consistency of an animal carcass. My knee shot
up so fast I nearly tumbled backwards at the sudden shift, and I
proceeded to violently stomp the floorboards, as though that would
rid me of the gross sensation.

The room, which had been filled with noise,
fell completely quiet. I realized we were in an inn of some kind,
and this was a tavern floor. A human figure leaned over the edge of
a bar; his many stitches indicating a zombie nature.

"The hell kind of dance is that?"

"Uhh..."

"
Yeeeess, Masster?
"

I saw Uhh's head peeking from behind a broken
window. The zombie bartender picked up the head of a broken broom
and waved it menacingly at the golem.

"Don't even think about coming in here! I just
fixed these floors!"

"Just stay there for now, Uhh," I told
him.

"
Unnderstood.
"

Sounds of activity gradually returned after
that. I glanced at a skeletal bandstand in the corner. One played a
harp, another had a mandolin, and three were bent backwards while
the sixth, and final skeleton ran up and down the line with
femur-mallets, playing the deathly xylophone.

"Marvin, over here!" Leo shouted, waving me
over to the far end of the bar.

The zombie paused from shining his glasses,
squinting at Diana.

"He's with you?"

"He's my Contractor."

The bartender sputtered, and his jaundiced
flesh moved in a very unnatural way.

The zombie shook his head, looked me up and
down, and finally met my eyes.

"Do you always parade around respectable
establishments half naked?"

Already, I was getting annoyed.

"Exactly what part of this establishment is
respectable?"

"Lookie here, Rook," said the zombie, waving a
mismatched finger at me. "You'd be hard pressed to run any sort of
place with the resources we've got down here. If it's not trying to
kill you, then it's damn hard to find."

I considered what I'd seen so far in the Moor
of Souls, and nodded.

"You're right. Sorry."

He looked as though I'd just spontaneously
combusted. Finally, he smiled. It was a broken thing, just like
everything else around us, but it was the first friendly native
face I'd seen.

Already, my perception of the world was
changing drastically.

It had to, I justified to myself, if I wanted
to survive.

The zombie extended a hand.

"The name's Duck."

"Duck?" I asked.

"Don't ask."

"I'm Marvin." I reached out and
shook his hand, dismayed when his finger dislodged from his palm.
He roared with laughter as I wilted.

"Pulled my finger, eh?" He grabbed his
twitching digit while I was frozen in disgust, attaching it with a
flick of the wrist. "You're a good sport, Marvin. Have a seat. How
about some fresh grub?"

"As long as they're not actual
grubs."

Leo elbowed me under the table.

"A little respect, Marv."

Duck laughed. "Unlike building material, fresh
meat isn't that hard to find. It's not human," he added, catching
my alarmed look. "Canine, I think. If it's good enough for
topsiders, it's good enough for us."

Whatever he was cooking, it
smelled a lot better than it looked.

My stomach growled vehemently. I probably
would've eaten it even if it had grubs.

I turned to Diana, who was applying oil to her
joint sockets.

She looked quite grim. Something about her was
scarier than the rest of the room.

"So..." I began casually. "What's the
plan?"

She threw a shirt at me. It wasn't the finest
thing, but I had no doubts that it was a lot better than most
fabrics in Krisenburg.

"Cover yourself, eat, and then stay out of
trouble while I run errands."

"Errands? You've been out all day, Diana.
What's going on?"

"I need to earn money for
supplies."

"How?" I asked. Her curtness was starting to
piss me off. "We're bound, together, till death do us part. Do you
think this is reassuring? Because it's not."

She sighed the length of the room.

"There are fighting pits, Marvin. It's a form
of entertainment in Krisenburg."

"And who are you entering? Uhh?"

"Uhh and myself," she answered. "And before
you start breathing down my neck about it, I can hold my own in a
fight."

Breathing down her neck?

Leo saw that I was near boiling point after
that comment. He put a hand on my shoulder and forced me to remain
seated.

"Let it go, Marvin. Dolls are made for
fighting. Diana'll be fine."

"Her being
fine
is besides the
point, Leo," I argued. "We get into a Doll Contract and she
suddenly turns to ice. Yeah, I'm incompetent. I'm a coward, and I'm
weak, but if she wanted to hate me for these things she could've
done it years ago. Why now?"

Duck set a plate of steaming meat in front of
me. I calmed down, still upset, but willing to let it go while I
ate.

"Thanks, Duck."

"No problem."

"...there's a reason I'm keeping you in the
dark, Marvin," Diana said.

I rolled my eyes.

"You know, Diana. I'm getting sick of this. I
may be a coward, but at least I have the nerve to look at what I'm
afraid of."

Leo shifted nervously between us, like a child
caught between his warring parents.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around me,
cupping my pecs.

I stopped chewing and furrowed my
brow.

"Leo, what are you doing?"

"Defending your honor."

"What?"

"Duck's been staring at your naked chest
funny."

Diana, Leo and I all looked at the zombie, who
shrugged.

"You've got some good definition
there."

I immediately pulled on my shirt.

"I don't swing that way, Duck."

"
You don't?
" Leo and Diana asked
together, genuinely surprised. I was caught at a crossroad between
amusement and offense.

"I like women, thanks."

"I'm part woman," Duck said, pointing to his
forearms. "See how dainty the wrists are?"

"Sorry," I smirked. "Only the natural kind for
me."

Duck shrugged. "I tried. Hard to find good men
around here. They're either taken or got one foot in the
grave."

Oh the irony.

"Topic of sexuality of aside, when are you
going to tell me about the Eyes of the Leviathan? What's a
universal soul?"

Diana stared at the bar top for a long
minute.

"The Eyes of the Leviathan are the heart of
the Moor. They keep the undead here from decaying much longer than
they would otherwise."

I looked around at the tavern.

"So does that make everyone our
enemy?"

"On the contrary," Duck interrupted. "This
isn't any kind of life we wanted. Most of us never had a say in
getting revived. Waiting around until you rot isn't exactly the
most glamorous aspiration in the world."

"You
want
to die?" I
asked.

"We want freedom from death." Duck smiled
crookedly. "Or the undeath, if you prefer. Sad thing is, we're all
mortal on the inside. We're too scared to hack ourselves off, else
we would've done it a long time ago."

"So what supplies do we need?" I turned to
Diana.

"Fire retardants."

"Fire..." My voice trailed off.

"Fun thing, that," Duck explained.
"The Eyes are in a part of the Moor we call the Salamander Nest.
Lots of lava. Wear fireproof clothing or nothing at all. If you
choose the latter, lemme know; I wanna see."

He winked.

I rocked my face in the palms of my
hands.

"I see why the Crone wants it."

The Eyes of the Leviathan were a power
reservoir.

Being underground wasn't enough to store
bodies properly. There were oils and other techniques involved, but
none quite as effective as temperatures below freezing.

Necromancers earned their living
by going topside and healing important officials in tribal
communities, and farther west in the High City of Isoviel. Our fees
were hefty due to our skill, but they were almost nothing once we
took out a monthly fee for cooling costs from Thermal
mages.

We've really got to stop outsourcing this
shit.

But of course, the Crone goes for the
convoluted path of sending me and Diana to get this power source.
If we die, she gets rid of a mass-murdering Doll, and if we don't,
then she gets a brand, spanking new tax deduction.

On the one hand, I could appreciate the
pragmatism behind her reason.

On the other: why
me?

13: The Harpy Den

Diana left
once she'd finished applying the oil. Uhh
followed after her just as silently, leaving me and Leo alone at
the bar.

Angrily, I shoved the last morsel of dinner
into my mouth, swallowed, and faced Duck, the zombie inn keep, as
forcefully as I dared.

"Where are the fighting pits?"

He didn't look up at me, but he did raise an
eyebrow as he took my empty plate.

"Diana wouldn't be happy if I told
you."

"Who says Diana has to find out?"

"You any good at sneaking, Rook?" he asked,
leaning across the table. "Dolls have sharp senses, you
know."